In 1945, a 12-year-old boy saw something in a shop window that set his heart racing. But the price—five dollars—was far beyond Reuben Earle's means. Five dollars would buy almost a week's groceries for his family.

　　Reuben couldn't ask his father for the money. Everything Mark Earle made through fishing in Bay Roberts, Newfoundland, Canada. Reuben's mother, Dora, stretched like elastic to feed and clothe their five children.

　　Nevertheless, he opened the shop's weathered door and went inside. Standing proud and straight in his flour-sack shirt and washed-out trousers, he told the shopkeeper what he wanted, adding, “But I don't have the money right now. Can you please hold it for me for some time?”  

　　“I'll try,”the shopkeeper smiled. “Folks around here don't usually have that kind of money to spend on things. It should keep for a while.”

　　Reuben respectfully touched his worn cap and walked out into the sunlight with the bay rippling in a freshening wind. There was purpose in his loping stride5. He would raise the five dollars and not tell anybody.

　　Hearing the sound of hammering from a side street, Reuben had an idea.

　　He ran towards the sound and stopped at a construction site. People built their own homes in Bay Roberts, using nails purchased in hessian sacks from a local factory. Sometimes the sacks were discarded in the flurry of building, and Reuben knew he could sell them back to the factory for five cents a piece.

　　That day he found two sacks, which he took to the rambling wooden factory and sold to the man in charge of packing nails.

　　The boy's hand tightly clutched the five-cent pieces as he ran the two kilometers home.

　　Near his house stood the ancient barn that housed the family's goats and chickens. Reuben found a rusty soda tin and dropped his coins inside. Then he climbed into the loft of the barn and hid the tin beneath a pile of sweet smelling hay.

　　It was dinnertime when Reuben got home. His father sat at the big kitchen table, working on a fishing net. Dora was at the kitchen stove, ready to serve dinner as Reuben took his place at the table.

　　He looked at his mother and smiled. Sunlight from the window gilded her shoulder-length blonde hair. Slim and beautiful, she was the center of the home, the glue that held it together.

　　Her chores were never-ending. Sewing clothes for her family on the old Singer treadle machine, cooking meals and baking bread, planting and tending a vegetable garden, milking the goats and scrubbing soiled clothes on a washboard. But she was happy. Her family and their well-being were her highest priority.

　　Every day after chores and school, Reuben scoured the town, collecting the hessian nail bags. On the day the two-room school closed for the summer, no student was more delighted than Reuben. Now he would have more time for his mission.

　　All summer long, despite chores at home weeding and watering the garden, cutting wood and fetching water—Reuben kept to his secret task.

　　Then all too soon the garden was harvested, the vegetables canned and stored, and the school reopened. Soon the leaves fell and the winds blew cold and gusty from the bay. Reuben wandered the streets, diligently searching for his hessian treasures.

　　Often he was cold, tired and hungry, but the thought of the object in the shop window sustained him. Sometimes his mother would ask: “Reuben, where were you? We were waiting for you to have dinner.”

　　“Playing, Mum. Sorry.”

　　Dora would look at his face and shake her head. Boys.

　　Finally spring burst into glorious green and Reuben's spirits erupted. The time had come! He ran into the barn, climbed to the hayloft and uncovered the tin can. He poured the coins out and began to count.

　　Then he counted again. He needed 20 cents more. Could there be any sacks left any where in town? He had to find four and sell them before the day ended.

　　Reuben ran down Water Street.

　　The   shadows were   lengthening   when Reuben arrived at the factory. The sack buyer was about to lock up.

　　“Mister! Please don't close up yet.”

    The man turned and saw Reuben, dirty and sweat stained.

      “Come back tomorrow, boy.”

　　“Please, Mister. I have to sell the sacks now—please.”The man heard a tremor in Reuben's voice and could tell he was close to tears.

　　“Why do you need this money so badly?”

　　“It's a secret.”

　　The man took the sacks, reached into his pocket and put four coins in Reuben's hand. Reuben murmured a thank you and ran home.

　　Then, clutching the tin can, he headed for the shop.

　　“I have the money,” he solemnly told the owner.

　　The man went to the window and retrieved Reuben's treasure.

　　He wiped the dust off and gently wrapped it in brown paper. Then he placed the parcel in Reuben's hands.

　　Racing home, Reuben burst through the front door. His mother was scrubbing the kitchen stove. “Here, Mum! Here!”Reuben exclaimed as he ran to her side. He placed a small box in her work roughened hand.

　　She unwrapped it carefully, to save the paper. A blue-velvet jewel box appeared. Dora lifted the lid, tears beginning to blur her vision.

　　In gold lettering on a small, almond-shaped brooch was the word Mother.

It was Mother's Day, 1946.

Dora had never received such a gift; she had no finery except her wedding ring. Speechless, she smiled radiantly and gathered her son into her arms.


男孩的使命

1945年，一個12歲的男孩在一家商店櫥窗里看到一樣令他心動的東西，但是——5美元——遠不是魯本?厄爾能付得起的。5美元幾乎夠買全家一周的食品呢。

　　魯本不能向父親要錢。馬克?厄爾的每一分錢都是靠在加拿大紐芬蘭的羅伯茨灣捕魚掙來的。魯本的母親多拉，為了不讓五個孩子凍著餓著，差不多是一個錢當兩個錢用。

　　盡管如此，魯本還是推開商店那扇久經(jīng)風雨的門走了進去。他穿著面粉袋改做的襯衫和洗得褪了色的褲子，站得筆直，絲毫不覺困窘。他告訴了店主他想要的東西，又加上一句：“可我現(xiàn)在還沒有錢買它，您能為我預留一段時間嗎?”

　　“我盡量吧，”店主微笑著說，“這兒的人買起東西來，一般不會花那么大一筆錢的，一時半會兒賣不出去 。”

　　魯本很有禮貌地碰了碰他的舊帽沿兒，走出店外。陽光下清新的微風吹得羅伯茨灣的海水泛起陣陣漣漪。魯本邁著大步，下定決心：他要湊齊那5美元，而且不告訴任何人。

　　聽到街邊傳來的鐵錘聲，魯本有了主意。

　　他循聲跑過去，來到一處建筑工地。羅伯茨灣的人喜歡自己建房，用的釘子是從本地一家工廠買的，都用麻袋來裝。有時干活時忙亂中麻袋就被隨手丟棄，而魯本知道他可以 5分錢一條把麻袋再賣給工廠。

　　那天，他找了兩條麻袋，拿到雜亂的木材廠，賣給為釘子裝袋的人。

　　兩公里的路程他是一路跑著回的家，手里緊緊攥著兩個5分硬幣。

　　他家旁邊有個頗有年頭的谷倉，里面圈著家里的山羊和雞。魯本在那里找到一個生銹的裝蘇打的鐵罐，把兩枚硬幣放了進去。然后，他爬上谷倉的閣樓，把鐵罐藏在一堆散發(fā)著甜香味的干草下面。

　　晚飯時分，魯本跨進家門。父親正坐在廚房大餐桌旁擺弄漁網(wǎng)，多拉在灶臺邊忙碌著，準備開飯。魯本就在桌邊坐下了。

　　他看著媽媽，笑了。窗戶透進的夕陽余暉將她棕褐的披肩發(fā)染成了金色。苗條、美麗的母親是這個家的中心，她像膠水一樣使這個家緊緊粘結(jié)在一起。

　　母親的家務活永遠也沒個完。用老式的“勝家”縫紉機為一家人縫縫補補；要做飯、烤面包；要照料菜園；要擠羊奶；還要在洗衣板上搓洗臟衣服。可母親是快樂的，全家人的幸福、健康在她心中是最重要的。

　　每天放學，做完家務事后，魯本就在鎮(zhèn)上搜尋裝釘子的麻袋。只有兩間教室的學校開始放暑假的那天，沒人能比魯本更高興了。現(xiàn)在他有更多時間去完成他的使命。

　　整整一個夏天，魯本除了干家務——給菜園鋤草、澆水，砍柴和打水外，始終進行著他的秘密任務。

　　轉(zhuǎn)眼菜園里該采收了，蔬菜被裝罐腌制后儲藏，學校也開學了。再不久， 樹葉飄零，海灣吹起陣陣寒風。魯本在街頭徘徊，努力尋找著被他視為寶物的麻袋。

　　他經(jīng)常是饑寒交迫，疲憊不堪，但是一想到商店櫥窗里的那樣東西，他就又有勁兒堅持下去了。有時媽媽會問 ：“魯本，你上哪兒啦?我們等你吃飯呢!”

　　“玩去啦，媽媽。對不起。”

　　這時候，多拉總會瞧著他的臉，無奈地搖搖頭，心想：男孩就是男孩。

　　春天終于來了，帶來片片綠意，魯本的精神也隨之振奮。是時候了!他跑到谷倉，爬上草垛，打開鐵罐，倒出所有硬幣清點起來。

　　他又數(shù)一遍，還差20美分。鎮(zhèn)上哪兒還會有丟棄的麻袋嗎?他必須在今天結(jié)束之前再找4條去賣掉。

　　魯本沿著沃特街走著。

　　魯本趕到工廠，廠房的影子已被夕陽拉得很長了。收購麻袋的人正要鎖門。

　　“先生!請先不要關門。”

    那人轉(zhuǎn)過身來，看到了臟兮兮、汗涔涔的魯本。

　　“明天再來吧，孩子。”

　　“求您了，先生，我必須現(xiàn)在把麻袋賣掉——求您啦。”那人感覺到魯本的聲音在顫抖，知道他快要哭了。

　“你為什么這么急著要這點兒錢?”

　　“這是秘密。”

　　那人接過麻袋，手伸進口袋，掏出4個硬幣放在魯本手里。魯本輕輕說了聲“謝謝”就往家跑。

　　接著，他緊緊摟著鐵罐，直奔那家商店。

　　“我有錢啦!”他一本正經(jīng)地告訴店主。

　　店主走向櫥窗，取出魯本夢寐以求的東西。

　　他撣去灰塵，用牛皮紙把它小心包好，然后把這個小包放到魯本手上。

　　魯本一路狂奔到家，沖進前門。媽媽正在廚房擦洗灶臺。“瞧，媽媽!瞧!”魯本一邊跑向她一邊大叫著。他把一個小盒子放在她因勞作而變得粗糙的手上。

　　為了不損壞包裝紙，她小心翼翼地把它拆開，一個藍色天鵝絨的首飾盒映入眼簾。多拉打開盒蓋，淚水頓時模糊了她的雙眼。

　　在一個小巧的心狀胸針上刻著金字：母親。

　　那是1946年的母親節(jié)。

　　多拉從未收到過這樣的禮物；除了結(jié)婚戒指外，她沒有別的飾物。哽咽無語，她把兒子一把攬入懷中，臉上洋溢著動人的光彩。